Rain God

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An Excerpt From: RAIN GOD

Warm rain washed over her body, making her hair wet. Something she could only imagine. It pattered over her like silk, soft, wet. Her body was slick as she ran her hands over her skin.

The sensation caused her pussy to become wet. It turned her on letting something so natural and pure run over her.

Opening her eyes, she saw that the rain was purple and blue as it washed over the scarred landscape of the Earth. It caused the cracks to seam together, like a needle to a thread.

Then she sensed him, a dream lover, turning she saw him standing through the downpour. His eyes were dark and glowing as he stared at her. She wanted him. She wanted him in the rain.

The man stepped forward. His eyes were pitch black as he approached her. The water was running in rivulets over his body. There was a crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning that seemed to cause his eyes to glow like a dark fire.

Moving like quicksilver, he pressed his body against hers. He ran his fingers over her cheeks before his hard strong hands ran through her silken hair, pulling her forward so that he could capture her lips with his mouth. His hot, wet tongue invaded her mouth, entwining with hers as he kissed her deeply.

Moaning, she pressed her body tighter against his, the water making their skin slick. She could feel his cock hard against her belly and she could feel her cream between her thighs. His body was hard, hot and taut, she wanted him so badly. She wanted to fuck him.

An Excerpt From: VEINS OF TURQUOISE

She’d been here for three weeks now and the place constantly surprised her. Her current obsession, the man looking so intently in her direction. It turned out Irav was not unique at all. This man, the one who stared at her with those vivid blue eyes, made any fantasies of Irav Tok disappear like a vapor. What was it in the air around here that produced such men? Real, flesh and blood men, not designed in some avatar-specialty lab. Those eyes were the most brilliant shade of blue, such a vibrant color that she wondered if they were a gene-alt. But he just didn’t seem the type, as serious and grave as his expression always appeared.

In fact, he wasn’t her type at all, although her body was screaming the opposite—her nipples tight, her pupils dilated, her pussy slick in readiness. He was a redhead! She hated red hair. But really, on him it worked. His skin was a warm, rich brown tinged with red, like the weathered limestone in the deserts of old Earth or the dry, dusty plains left in the non-terraformed reserves on Mars. His hair was just a shade lighter, more a deep rust than brown. His arms were things of beauty and she resented the thin sleeveless shirt that covered his chest from her perusal. She wondered how his skin would taste if she ran her tongue across the muscles of that chest—if his stomach would flutter as her mouth descended, if his cock would be warm and hard in her mouth and what his scent would be like in her nostrils. She didn’t want to rush off to make a simulation of this man. She wanted him, real and live and entwined with her in hot sweaty glory.

For Infinity’s sake! The man was looking right at her. He was still some five metras away and she knew that these floor-to-ceiling windows were one way, that it was impossible to see inside the crylic window from that bench. But his eyes perused the length of her body, making her swallow nervously and bite the fullness of her lower lip. Her folds felt heavy and full, her temperature seemed to soar and she could feel her phytoderm ripple in an effort to harness the sudden hormonal changes into a store of energy. Ah, to be a Phytos, ever-mindful of limited resources. It was then that she noticed her hand pressed against the crylic of the window—the skin that was quickly becoming the same shade of deep red-brown as the man watching her from outside. The color crept down her arm and had almost made it past her elbow before she wrenched her hand away from the window and shook it vigorously, forcing it back to the green it had been a moment before. She hadn’t changed her phytodermis unconsciously since she’d been a teenager! What in Infinity was happening to her?

“Happy to be home, Galita Serhadze?” A voice was speaking in her mind again but this voice was gravelly and utterly human. A voice full of challenge and temptation. “Is this finally home?”

She wanted to scream back but she didn’t know what the hell he was asking, much less what she should answer. And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the voice belonged to the man sitting outside—well, he had been sitting outside. While she had been raging internally, trying frantically to find the hole in her firewalls and wireless comm that he’d exploited to access her audio receptors, he’d simply walked away. Damn that infuriating man, Mardon Kaen. And damn her for wanting him.

If a woman was finally, finally going to pick a man to be her first bio-partner for sex, why did the guy have to be so damn mysterious!

Then she was overcome by an image so strong she sank to her knees right there in the public hallway, lost to everything but sensation.

Was she in the Tessnet? Was she asleep? Did it matter when she felt like this? Her skin was electrified—every nerve ending was receiving nothing but bliss. Behind her knee, it was the whisper of a hot breath. Along the curve of her breast, the lightest teasing touch of a single finger. On the inside of her thigh, the firm but gentle bite of teeth. Her breath came in shuddering gasps and her eyes darted around the smooth brilliance surrounding her. She was trapped in the warm heart of a sunset, light she couldn’t block out even when she closed her eyes. It shone within her, through her, not letting her hide anymore from her own insecurities, her own sexuality.

An Excerpt From: FERAL MOON

Shock whipped through her system and she was so stunned she could only nod mutely when James swept Trish off to the dance floor. Something unexplainable was happening to her and it had been going on for days. It had begun as little things that she’d thought were just weird premonitions. Like James coming up behind Trish when he had. She’d seen it in her mind before it happened. And her body. Something bizarre was going on. Every beat of the music made her blood heat and the very core of her body pulse to a pagan tempo. Restlessly, she squirmed in her chair and sent her gaze wildly around the room. Her panties were drenched. Mahara rubbed her thighs together hoping against hope to stem the rising tide. Sexual excitement rose up like a great beast to center in her pussy, deep and pulsing, a release longing to break free. She wanted to grab the nearest man and throw him to the floor and take him like an animal.

Every tiny hair on the back of her neck rose to attention and Mahara’s heart thumped sharply in her chest. The turquoise stone in her ring heated against the finger on her right hand where she wore it. Lifting her glasses, she settled them back on her nose but she didn’t need them any longer and wearing them was just stupid. A visit to her eye doctor would only tell her what she already knew. Her vision seemed to have perfected itself overnight. Impossible. Through the lenses, the ring went fuzzy. Mahara huffed a breath and yanked them off, shoved them in her purse just as their waitress came up. “Drink?”

“Um, no. But could you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

Mahara glanced toward the dance floor. “Could you tell my friend that I have to take off?”

“No problem.”

Shakily, she got to her feet and slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder intending to walk the few blocks to her downtown apartment. The feeling of being stalked hit her in a giant wave and she felt her knees start to buckle but she caught herself on the edge of the table. Suddenly, a huge hand wrapped around her elbow to steady her and she looked up to see her boss, the great Titus Declan staring down at her.

She’d never seen or known a more devastating man. Big, brawny, ripped with muscle, he looked like a Viking bent on plunder with that longer-than-fashionable black hair and weird golden eyes. But he was her boss. She barely knew him. Suddenly, she blinked. “Mr. Declan.”

“Titus.”

“Um. Hi.”

“Let me help you.”

Mahara felt her legs turn to rubber. The warmth of his touch seeped through the cotton of her blouse and a wave of longing, of heat swept her. The ring seemed to vibrate against her hand. Wetness, created by an awful lust, drenched her, seeped from her core. She wanted sex. Craved it. Oh God! She was in big trouble and didn’t know what to do about it. Tears filled her eyes as she stared up at him. “Help me.”

“Come on.”

Without another word, he put his arm around her and drew her close to his body. She had the sudden insane urge to sink into him and crawl up the all that brawn and take his mouth. She wanted his cock soothing the awful ache in her pussy. His smell was intoxicating. Mahara felt her heart thump wildly in her chest. “I-I think someone put something in my drink,” she managed.

He only tightened his grip. His hand skimmed her arm and a shiver followed in its wake. Sweat beaded her forehead. When they reached the entrance to the club, he drew her to the brick wall near the front door. Neon white from the overhead sign splashed light intermittently over his feral features. The front of his shirt grazed her nipples and she gasped at the feel of the firm muscles beneath the fabric. Pleasure-pain, wicked sensation, made her moan.

“Shh.”

“What’s wrong with me?” Mahara gripped his sides and stared up at him. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. All will be clear soon.”

“I don’t understand.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead as he replied. “Soon. You’ll understand soon.”